


Beneath the Ocean Deep

by waterofthemoon



Series: Kisses Bingo Fills [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Beach Holidays, Established Relationship, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Ocean, One Shot, Romance, Skinny Dipping, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:42:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25715995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterofthemoon/pseuds/waterofthemoon
Summary: While on a coastal holiday, Aziraphale and Crowley go swimming and get caught up in kissing underwater.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Kisses Bingo Fills [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1865197
Comments: 5
Kudos: 50
Collections: Kisses Bingo





	Beneath the Ocean Deep

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a Kisses Bingo square fill! The bingo call was "deep kisses/gentle shoulder bump." I managed to work them both in, but this is intended to count for deep (sea) kisses. ❤️

Sometimes, breathing being non-compulsory comes in handy.

At the moment, for example, Aziraphale and Crowley are at the bottom of the Tyrrhenian Sea, over three thousand meters below the surface, and they are kissing.

Fish swim all around them; salt water flows between them rather than air. No one's ever touched the sand beneath their feet, save the creatures that inhabit it.

Aziraphale has the distant impression that their corporations won't appreciate it when they finally surface, but he pushes that to the back of his mind and focuses on his hands on Crowley's nude body, his mouth needily drinking kisses from Crowley's lips again and again. Crowley's unique taste was swallowed long ago by the brine of the sea. Aziraphale can hardly bring himself to mind, though, when the flavor reminds him so much of their first date.

(Crowley was the one who insisted they holiday in Italy, several weeks ago. "Mmmm, just think about it, angel. Warm sun, good wine, all those fancy little desserts you like…" He nudged Aziraphale's shoulder with his own. "We could get oysters."

"You old romantic. That sounds wonderful," Aziraphale said, and they left London for the Italian coast the very next day.)

He could pluck an oyster from the ocean floor right here if he wanted to. Instead, he draws Crowley closer and hooks an arm around his middle.

It's partly to keep the current from drawing Crowley away from him—though Aziraphale knows neither of them will let that happen—but mostly for the skin contact, the romance found in the novelty of it. Crowley rests his hands on Aziraphale's bare waist. They slide their mouths together again but break it off to laugh, water bubbling up on their lips from the vibrations and making everything just that little bit more exciting.

There's a secret world to be discovered down here—a whole sea just for them, where they can kiss and touch and be together. They can do that on land now, too, but not with fish and whales for company. Not with the surface-filtered light rippling over Crowley's skin, not with the ocean water making them buoyant and pliant in each other's arms.

(It was one of their beach days, and it was so hot out that they went swimming just for the relief of it. Splashing, laughing, grabbing at each other for kisses and horseplay alike. They went out, and then they went out farther, and somewhere along the way, they both lost their swimsuits and dove beneath the waves.)

The pressure is what really does it for him. A human wouldn't be able to take it down here, not without oxygen and protective gear at the very least. They don't need any of that—they have enough force of will between the two of them to keep their bodies safe.

Aziraphale likes the way it holds him down, pushes him to cling to Crowley a little tighter and press their mouths together more firmly. A dolphin swims by and brushes against Aziraphale, her skin slick and rubbery; Crowley gives her a little wave as she moves on in search of more suitable prey.

They make out until they can hardly stand it anymore: the sensation of being flooded, the water steadily growing darker as the sun sets. When Crowley points up and raises his eyebrows in question, though, Aziraphale shakes his head.

Later, they'll go back to all the things people do on holiday—sex and sleep, and delectable food, and long walks along the coastline, and mixed attempts to converse in the local dialect. For now, they can stay out a little longer, there in the deep blue sea.


End file.
